Silent Hill 2: Novelization Trailor and First Sec
by Undercover Brother
Summary: Guess


(I give credit for the written dialogue to http:// )  
  
"In my restless dreams, I see that town Silent Hill. You promised you'd take me there again some day, But you never did.  
  
Well I'm alone now.... In our "special place".... Waiting for you...."  
  
~Mary Sunderland~  
  
.she sat inside the cell block, with her legs crossed, and a sweet smile of seductive satisfaction stretched across her face. Maria, seemingly, was undamaged after the last encounter and all James could do was scratch his head in amazement and wonder. She was still alive, despite the previous few hours of events. The wooden chair began to creak and she uncrossed her legs and placed her hands on the left knee, never taking her eyes off of James.  
  
"James, honey," she spoke, "did something happen to you? After we got separated in that long hallway? Are you confusing me with someone else?" She chuckled. "You were always so forgetful. Remember that time from the hotel?"  
  
(begin MP3: Laura's Theme.mp3 - theme_of_laura.mp3)  
  
"Maria?" he asked, completely bewildered by what she was saying.  
  
"You said you took everything. But you forgot that videotape we made." She slowly lowered her head and softly said, "I wonder if it's still there."  
  
James's was confused. Maria had asserted hours ago that she had no connection with Mary what so ever. Yet.she spoke word for word as if she was Mary incarnate, revealing intimate details that only she would know. He gasped for a moment, trying to catch his breath before responding. He placed a hand underneath his chin and asked, curiously, "How do you know about that? Aren't you Maria?"  
  
centerx0x0x/center [IMG] ] centero0o0o/center  
  
The stench of dried urine mingled with the scent of antiseptic soap; the kind that all mounted dispensers carried. Graffiti covered the walls of the dingy, azure colored tiles. Grime and dirt had accumulated on them for quite sometime; one would assume that the bathroom hadn't been cleaned in months. Dirty paper towels with unknown substances were strewn about: on the sink, the floors, overflowing the waste baskets and even one was stuck to the scratched mirror.  
  
James, however, was unconcerned.or for a better word, apathetic about the condition of the men's bathroom.  
  
To him, all he needed was a place to piss and to wash his face with cold tap water. James stood blankly, staring at his reflection while throwing the liquid on his face. He spent five minutes fighting his fatigue of driving for hours on end before he turned off the faucet and stretched his arms.  
  
centero0o0o/center  
  
She rose from her chair and tilted her head to the side, suppressing an immature smile that had made its way across her lips. She did not want to admit it, but she enjoyed James having the camera pointed at her.  
  
"Are you taping again?" she asked, smiling and waving her hand at the camera. "C'mon." Mary walked toward the bed, basking in the rays of the sun shining from the window. A sigh escaped her lips as she sat down on the soft mattress. "I don't know why, but I just love it here. It's so peaceful." She turned her head, again, toward the camera and said, "You know what I heard? This whole area used to be a sacred place. I think I can see why. It's too bad we have to leave..."  
  
Mary quickly rose from her bed and began to plead with her husband, clasping her hands together, "Please promise you'll take me again, James." Before she could say anything else, she placed a hand over her mouth and began to cough.  
  
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Maria chuckled, smirking at James before asking, "I don't look like a.ghost.do I?"  
  
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James arched his brow and tried to be nice, saying to Maria, "Anyway, I'm glad you're alive..." He felt somewhat guilty for leaving her behind and figured maybe if he apologized, she'd understand what happened to him.  
  
Too bad for him.  
  
Immediately she snapped at him wildly flailing her arms in the air, screaming, "'Anyway'!? What do you mean 'Anyway'!? You don't sound very happy to see me." She shook her head in disgust and placed her hands on her hips continuing, "I was almost killed back there! Why didn't you try to save me?" The only things that were visible in that pitch black room were glimpses of James's face, the flashlight he wore around his neck, and an irate Maria. "All you care about is that dead wife of yours!"  
  
James lowered his head, consumed with guilt for his folly. Maria then began to suppress her urge to cry. Her voice cracked and her lips quivered, eyes quickly filling to the brim with unshed tears. "I've never been so scared in my whole life!"  
  
centero0o0o/center  
  
"Lost?" the raven haired woman asked, not sure what James meant.  
  
centero0o0o/center  
  
"It's like that stupid dog," Eddie screamed, "he had it coming, too!" James shook his head and tried to reason with the apparently depraved obese man. They stood in near darkness arguing about the value of human life.or lack of as Eddie felt.  
  
"Eddie!" James exclaimed, "You can't just kill people because of the way they looked at you."  
  
centero0o0o/center Angela lied on the floor, flaccid and not moving. She moved her finger from top to bottom of the knife that stuck into the floor. The only thing she could say as he entered the room and saw her there was, "Oh, it's you."  
  
centero0o0o/center "I dunno, maybe I did," the young blonde girl said with a mischievous smile. She sat at the top of a nine foot tall brick wall, swinging her feet back and forth. James smirked. He crossed his arms not really knowing how to respond. On the one hand, she was just a little girl who was simply playing a joke on him.one that almost got him killed.but simply a joke. It's not as if she knew better. On the other hand, he had an insatiable urge to grab her by the color and shake her, screaming how he felt.  
  
He stayed calm and simply asked, "What's a little girl like you doing here anyway'?"  
  
She squinted for a second, wondering why he asked that. "Huh? Are you blind or something?" She shook her head. IGrown ups are so stupid, she thought./I  
  
centero0o0o/center  
  
The satisfaction of killing those who had caused him such pain had filled Eddie Dumbrowski with euphoria. He had begun to enjoy the satisfaction of watching others bleed and cry for mercy before he fired his shots into the back of their heads. Eddie smiled, pointing the black revolver toward his head and said, "Just put the gun to their head and..." He then pretended to fire the gun, enjoyment rolling off of his lips as he recoiled the gun and said, "Pow!"  
  
centerx0x0x/center  
  
Maria smiled at James, inching forward, and said, "I am, if you want me to be."  
  
centero0o0o/center  
  
Maria pushed herself from James's chest, expressing her feelings of concern for the young girl. "So what about Laura? Did you find her?"  
  
He shook his head and said, "Yeah, but she ran away."  
  
Maria placed her hands on her chest and cried, "We've got to find her."  
  
centerx0x0x/center  
  
"It doesn't matter who I am," Maria said, rising from her chair and walking toward James. She extended her arm from behind the bars and placed a hand on his face saying, "See James. I'm here for you." He felt the warmth of her touch caressing his cheek. It was the exact same feel he'd gotten from Mary every time she wanted to comfort him whenever he felt inadequate or lost.  
  
"I'm real." She gave James a dark smile, not turning her gaze from him.  
  
(THIS IS THE PREVIEW. THE INTRO TRAILOR.)  
  
THE VOICE OF SAMEAL COMMANDS: IShe calls from the grave./I  
  
The stench of dried urine mingled with the scent of antiseptic soap; the kind that all mounted dispensers carried. Graffiti covered the walls of the dingy, azure colored tiles. Grime and dirt had accumulated on them for quite sometime; one would assume that the bathroom hadn't been cleaned in months. Dirty paper towels with unknown substances were strewn about: on the sink, the floors, overflowing the waste baskets and even one was stuck to the scratched mirror.  
  
James, however, was unconcerned.or for a better word, apathetic about the condition of the men's bathroom.  
  
To him, all he needed was a place to piss and to wash his face with cold tap water. James stood blankly, staring at his reflection while throwing the liquid on his face. He spent five minutes fighting his fatigue of driving for hours on end before he turned off the faucet and stretched his arms.  
  
He'd been on the road for far too long and his body was all but worn out from being sedentary. James had come all the way from the outlands to this place-Silent Hill. It was a small, sleepy town that was renowned to be a tourist spot for vacationing and historical exploration until an incident rocked the small town at its very foundations. James had no intentions of returning to Silent Hill for the sake of having a rest; after all the meaning was lost without Marry by his side. He sighed deeply, remembering just why he ihad/I come to the town. A stationary note was delivered to him by mystery. He had spent weeks on the road, trying to develop his writer's spirit and combat the chronic depression that had been the primary focus of his life for three years-the depression that had made him suicidal many times before.  
  
His dusty, auburn hair swayed as he tilted his head toward the left side, stretching his neck. James began to brush the dirt off of his green denim army jacket that had a few Air Force patches on them. It covered the plain, blue colored shirt that he wore over the black undershirt of his. Maine was, after all, a cold place around the Fall months. James frowned, noticing a splotch on the lower pant leg; the urinals had done a terrible job and catching and retaining all the liquid. The way they were designed insured that droplets would refract and douse the unfortunate pisser. James wasn't any different. Those blue denim Levi's had cost him $40 dollars that he did not feel like paying for. The sparse light from the ceiling lamp shined off the black rattlesnake's skin boots he wore, imported straight from New Mexico from an auction he'd won a while back.  
  
James glanced once more into the mirror and bit on his lip, staring deeply into it. He was a self conscious man since childhood who has always taken a deep interest into how he looked and was always afraid of being seen as an ugly man. By no means was he hideous. He stared deeply at his medium length hook nose and chocolate colored eyes, simply glancing at contrasting colors if one stared deeply into them. He was hazel eyed, in truth, but the majority of the time, they simply stayed brown. James was an average man I height, roughly around 5'8, who had spent many years of his life dedicated to jogging. At one time, he was a track running for his college.but it had been nearly seven years since he graduated and since then, he'd found more luxury in typing on his typewriter and eating potato crisps then in actually keeping in shape. Surprisingly, the only thing James had let go was his endurance, as he'd gained no weight since his exit from strenuous activity.  
  
After his study in self narcissism, James exited the bathroom and walked toward the blue, slightly rusted 1979 Taurus that he owned. He lacked a sense of style that most men his age had in terms of the vehicles they rode in. His excuse was that he suffered from money budgeting problems since Mary's death three years prior and that he could not afford to get a new car. In truth, James was a stubborn man who refused to get rid of the car that his father had given him as a 16th birthday gift. That car got him through high school, university, and the work world. Even after 500,000 miles, it still ran as if it was sold off the lot the day before-then again it was due to the fact that James was always tinkering with it.  
  
What he was looking for was a map of Silent Hill, the letter he was given, and a photo of the woman he loved. After retrieving his items, James walked toward the edge of the cement wall that separated the rest area from the edge of the hill that it stood on. He looked across the serene waters that separated his current location from the town that he and Mary so loved dearly. The thick grey fog covered every inch of the sky, hiding the sun away behind a blanket of smoke. At that peak, the fog was mild and accompanied the cool mountain air. However, it was bound to become more congested as he headed closer toward the lost hideaway, Silent Hill.  
  
The cool mountain breeze brushed against his face, blowing back the short brown hairs of his head. He shivered for a second, clasping the jacket closer to his body while removing the letter from his pocket. He read it once more.  
  
ICENTER In my restless dreams, I see that town.  
Silent Hill.  
You promised you'd take me there again someday,  
But you never did.  
Well I'm alone there now...  
In our 'special place'...  
Waiting for you./CENTER/I  
  
James lowered his head and began to sulk once more, delving into his feelings of loneliness and self-pity. He thought to himself, i I got a letter one day while I was at a roadside café. The name on the envelope said 'Mary.'  
  
My wife's name...  
  
It's ridiculous, couldn't possibly be true...that's what I keep telling myself...A dead person can't write a letter. Mary died of that damn disease three years ago. So then why am I looking for her?' Our 'special place'...What could she mean?  
  
This whole town was our special place.  
  
Does she mean the park on the lake? We spent the whole day there. Just the two of us, staring at the water. Could Mary really be there?  
  
Is she really alive... waiting for me?/i  
  
He then took the photo out of his pocket and began to look at it once more, smiling faintly before becoming overwhelmed, once more, by his feelings of loss. Mary stood there in front of Toluca Lake with that half smile on her face; the smile that said in instant, 'I love it here but I love you being by my side more.' He stared at the photograph more so and simply gazed at Mary.  
  
She was a beauty. Fair skin, light brown eyes, dirty blond hair that hung down to the side on one end while the rest was tied back into a bun. She always dressed conservatively in a pink dress and never did she once show cleavage at any time. He missed her and felt as if a part of himself had died when she did. However, the note had said that she was 'waiting' for him. 'Waiting.' And if she was waiting, then they'd be together once more. However, how could he make it to Silent Hill when the damned main tunnel was blocked? He shrugged his shoulders and began to walk down the stair case that stood in between the rest station and the tunnel. James took a red marker from pocket and marked on his map that this entrance was locked. He figured that he'd map it out in case he got lost. Sure the locals would look at him queerly but it wasn't like James to care. He was used to the odd looks and cold shoulders thrown his way because of his demeanor.  
  
He'd been used to rejection most of his life. Never being good enough for the track team, medical school, or Mary's parents, he'd developed a self defense mechanism known as 'apathy' due to it in order to cope. However, deep down inside, he cared deeply what people thought of him and went out of his way to help them regardless. It was what Mary playfully called his 'kryptonite.'  
  
After regaining his sense of purpose, James began to walk down the mountain path toward the Silent Hill Presbyterian Church. He knew the back way into the town. Down the mountain slope, past the church, through the construction zone, and into Silent Hill. It was a ten minute walk. During that time, James cared little for sight seeing. The green grass and pine trees along the long, dirt road were bland and tedious to him, simply adding to the monotony of the fog that began to grow increasingly thick the closer he got.  
  
Soon, the fog became so dense that all he could do to make sure that he didn't fall from the mountain path was to stare at the ground. Toward the end of the path, he could see a stone well, a wooden fence and a large, rusted metal gate. This was the entrance to the church and James smiled in relief, taking a minute for rest; the long hike had tired him a little.  
  
Stone walls encased his path and led him down a long, narrow corridor toward the cemetery of the church. Bland, grey headstones marked the dead from the year 1600 and up. It wouldn't be long now until he was in Silent Hill. IMary, I'm so close. I can already feel it./I James began to doubt himself the moment he stepped into the cemetery. His memory was hazy about the details of the town and he began to think that maybe he was headed toward the wrong town. Perhaps his direction sense was off.  
  
He heard the sound of leaves crunch from his left side. Was someone there?  
  
Cautiously, he followed the sound, not knowing what to expect. He'd expected the caretaker of the church to be out but instead was surprised to see a young woman kneeling at a headstone. Her long, black hair hung down in front of her face, obscuring her details. James starred at her for a moment before taking any action. She wore a long sleeved beige turtleneck and red pants with loafers. He shrugged for a moment, wondering who she was looking for. Then he wondered if she knew if he was on the right trail.  
  
He slowly walked over toward her, not making a sound, and then asked, "Excuse me, I..."  
  
(Forest.mp3 - forest.mp3) She gasped, falling back before regaining her composure. The woman apologized, saying, "I, I'm sorry...I, I... I was just...."  
  
He began to signal to her that things were all right, saying, "No, it's okay. I didn't mean to scare you. I'm kind of lost."  
  
"Lost?" the raven haired woman asked, not sure what James meant. She scrunched her nose and waited for him to finish. James continued to study her features. She probably had native American descent in her from how high and defined her cheekbones were. Of course, her Anglo side was more prevalent: short, yet pointed nose of French ancestry, thin, rose colored lips, and deep brown eyes that seemed to hide many things.  
  
"Yeah, I'm looking for Silent Hill. Is this the right way?" he asked, pointing his left arm in the direction of the church.  
  
"Um yeah.... It's hard to see with this fog, but there's only the one road. You can't miss it," she said, crossing her arms in discomfort or the situation.  
  
"Thanks," James replied.  
  
"But." she chirped with fear in her voice. She seemed to tense more so than she already was when he mentioned that name.  
  
"Yes?" he asked.  
  
She stepped backward for a second, conveying her fear by looking James directly in the face. "I think you'd better stay away. This uh... this town... there's something... 'wrong' with it. It's kind of hard to explain, but..."  
  
James shrugged, asking, "Is it dangerous?"  
  
"Maybe," she commented, "And it's not just the fog either...It's...."  
  
James sighed, obviously annoyed at the small talk. He decided to be polite and end the conversation, saying, "Okay I got it. I'll be careful."  
  
"I'm not lying!" She exclaimed.  
  
Again, James shrugged, his inner apathy coming out, and said, "No, I believe you. It's just...I guess I really don't care if it's dangerous or not. I'm going to town either way."  
  
"But why?" she asked, her curiosity becoming more prevalent than her fear.  
  
He looked down and said, "I'm looking for someone."  
  
"Who, who is it?"  
  
"Someone...very important to me. I'd do anything if I could be with her again," he said.  
  
"Me too," she said, feeling more comfortable and lowering her arms, "I'm looking for my mama... I mean my mother. It's been so long since I've seen her. I thought my father and brother were here, but I can't find them either... I'm sorry... It's not your problem."  
  
"No, I.hope you find them," he said walking toward the exit.  
  
(End mp3)  
  
"Yeah, you too," she said. The girl stood at the headstone and continued to look vapidly at it, wondering what she was doing here at the town. After a minute of walking, James found another rusted gate and exited, continuing to follow the path ahead of him. The dirt, grass, pine trees and stone walls seemed to be endless. Along the way, he passed a greenhouse, a truck, and what appeared to be a farm.  
  
However, what struck James as odd was the fact that no one was around. The fact that the area seemed to be empty seemed to indicate that some sort of cataclysm has taken place.. The truck had the keys to it left in the ignition and the greenhouse fans continued to function. Yet the owners of the machine and property were no where to be found. The path was dead silent, to James discomfort. Birds, animals, grasshoppers and such were non existent. Perhaps Angela WAS right about Silent Hill. But what about Mary? What if she was in this place? He continued to press on.  
  
The fog became unbearable. The furthest James could see in front of him was 5 ft. Was he close to the town or not? The loaded trash receptacles seemed to answer that question for him. On his left hand side was a stone wall. On the right was a chain linked fence that rose 10 ft in height. It took James 5 more minutes to finally meet the end of the path. The chain fence stood between him and the ravine.  
  
To his delight, an entrance was on his left hand side. The ground was covered by shredded newspapers and the inside area wasn't all that long. He exited what looked like a go between for the farm houses and the construction zones. The town was not that far away. James continued to walk past the metal crates and tight tunnels meant for transporting cargo. The exit led him to a crooked street that was not all that far from the town itself.  
  
It took James 15 minutes to finally reach Sanders St., one of the main roads of the town. James shook his head and wondered just where the locals were at? The streets were empty, devoid of life, traffic, and activity. It seemed as if he was the only one there.  
  
"Hello?" he called out, hoping to receive a response. Not a peep. "Mary?" Nothing. His voice was the closest thing to a living soul. James began to aimlessly wander the streets, searching desperately for Mary until he ran across a smeared blood trail.  
  
IWhat's this?/I he thought, hoping that it was simply pain. James knelt down and placed his finger on the substance. The moment he rubbed it, a sudden wave of nausea overcame him. However, the sensation of fear overpowered the one of sickness; James saw, as he looked up, a tall figure disappear into the shadows. He was an avid believer in the fight-or-flight syndrome that biology had taught him. Right now he could run away.but that wouldn't get him anywhere closer to Mary. Another sickening thought crossed his mind as he watched the 'man' walk away. What if that man killed Mary? What if this is her blood? He didn't want that possibility to be a reality.  
  
Scared for Mary's safety, James began to extend his stride and run, following the trail of blood. It led him into the back alleyway that extended from Sanders St. and ended at an outskirt area of Silent Hill. The trail stopped at the start of the dirt road and James wondered just where did it go from there. From the distance, he could hear the faint sound of static. A radio maybe? Could that mean there was someone around? He had to see for himself whether or not that was a realistic possibility. Perhaps the town wasn't abandoned and maybe that girl was simply telling tall tales about the fog having any responsibility for this event in weirdness.  
  
No matter. The only ay that he could insure Mary's safety and survival was to press on and find the man who had run off into the distance. The static grew louder as he pressed on. He wiped the sweat from his brow and continued to pursue the source of the noise. He could swear that the static was changing as he went on. At first it sounded like simple fuzz.but not it seemed to have it's own rhythm to it; a disjointed and disconnected sound to it that was like that of file scrapping the side of a barrel.  
  
The end of the path came suddenly as James passed the usual cadre of farm houses and wooden fences. He could see an archway that was blocked from the outside. Waste drums and woodchips were pinned against the entrance, making the process of going inside the tunnel as painful as possible. By the time, the static sound was at its peak and it directly came from inside the tunnel. He knew that it was a dangerous thing to do. He knew that blindly entering a darkened area unarmed was asking for death, but he didn't care. If injury was what it took to find her, then James would happily take 1001 beatings from the sultan himself. He could faintly see the figure from before lying prone against the back wall swaying back and forth, not really active. He walked up to the wooden planks and stepped through the narrow opening slowly, not extending his body and hurting his back.  
  
As James entered the pathway, he could see the figure before him. At first he presumed it an old homeless man, but since when did the homeless lack discernable upper appendages, a well defined torso, and, for what mattered most, a face? Out of the corner of his eye, James saw the body of a man lying against the wall of the tunnel, sitting to the side of the figure.  
  
The creature, as if attracted to him, slowly began to rise, revealing itself to be a tall, gauntly beast with extremely thin legs, knobbed knees that pointed inward toward each other, and a bobbing head that convulsed and jerked erratically. 'It' began to hobble toward James slowly, attracted by his presence.  
  
The man instantly knew right there what had killed the poor farmer and was unsure of what to do now. 


End file.
